Medical Skills and Compassion

Now, Tissaphernes was caught in a dilemma. For this attack, he had specially prepared many large shields, but the proportion of light infantry in his force was too large—he couldn’t even protect half of them. Moreover, the sheer number of soldiers made the formation too dense, so almost every thrown stone or arrow from the mercenaries achieved a killing effect. Under his coercive pressure, the soldiers barely maintained their morale, but the wounded cavalry horses reared, whinnied, and ran in all directions, even colliding with some soldiers and disrupting the formation. By now, most of the cavalry had withdrawn to the rear.

Tissaphernes looked at his own thinning formation, filled with groans, then at the Greek shield wall, which was no longer as tight as at the start. No matter how well the Greek heavy infantry protected themselves, they couldn’t completely avoid arrows at close range. Should he continue? He hesitated: he had paid a price without achieving clear results. Retreating in disgrace like this would not only hurt morale but also invite dissatisfaction and contempt from other commanders. Yet if the arrow fight continued, casualties would only increase, and before the Greeks collapsed, his own troops might fall into chaos first…

Just then, a messenger arrived: “Your Excellency the Satrap, Lord Sitiers reports that his casualties are too heavy. He proposes either an immediate assault or a retreat?”

Tissaphernes let out a long breath and answered without hesitation: “Retreat!”

…

The Greek soldiers, struggling to hold on, couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw the Persians recede like a tide. They waited a while longer, and when the Persians did not reappear, they began to cheer…

In this battle, the Persian army suffered over four thousand casualties. The mercenaries also had over nine hundred casualties, but most were wounded, primarily arrow wounds to the hands and feet.

After this fight, the soldiers were exhausted both physically and mentally. They hastily cleaned the battlefield, marched north for a short distance, and before noon began to set up camp and rest…

Inside the great tent, Davos held an urgent meeting with the officers to discuss how to treat the wounded. In this battle, Davos’s unit had nineteen killed and one hundred eighty-five wounded, completely exceeding the capacity of the medical camp. They had to mobilize the entire battalion’s strength for treatment.

Amyntas was dismissive of this and said, “No need to make such a fuss. We came out to be soldiers and fight. We’ve long been prepared to die! They’re just arrow wounds—just deal with them casually. That’s how we’ve always done it.”

Davos looked around at the others and sensed that Amyntas was not alone in this thinking. He then spoke earnestly: “Gentlemen, we are far from our families and our homeland, fighting abroad. Are we only united in battle? In truth, we see our comrades as family, and the camp is our home. Can we watch our wounded brothers struggle in pain and remain unmoved? If so, when we ourselves are wounded, who will be willing to help us? Gentlemen—” Davos said resolutely, “Remember, the past is the past! Now, as long as I, Davos, am in this camp, we must establish a belief: we never let an enemy escape, and we never abandon a comrade. We share life and death!”

“Well said!” Philistos could not help exclaiming loudly. The other officers also burst into warm applause.

Davos’s words moved them, and the entire battalion immediately sprang into action.

First, they cleared a large open area in the center of the camp as the site for the medical camp. Davos divided the wounded into three categories: light, moderate, and severe. He then split the assisting soldiers into four groups: the diligent ones were responsible for hygiene in the medical camp, promptly cleaning up blood and filth, and driving away flies, mosquitoes, and other insects; the physically strong were responsible for carrying and supporting the wounded; the dexterous helped the doctors and nurses remove arrows, clean wounds, and apply bandages; another group, those who had worked as carpenters back home, were tasked with cutting branches and making stretchers. The severely wounded were sent directly to Helpus, as only he could handle them. For the lightly and moderately wounded, after arrow removal, wound cleaning, and bandaging, most of the lightly wounded could return to their company, while the rest remained in the medical camp for observation, to consider stitching and further treatment as needed.

With Davos commanding on-site, the entire treatment operation proceeded in an orderly and highly efficient manner. By afternoon, all the wounded in Davos’s camp had been treated.

At this time, the words Davos had spoken in the great tent were spread to the soldiers’ ears through the efforts of Antonios and other like-minded individuals. Davos had initially risen to prominence by the title of “God-Touched One,” which was the soldiers’ instinctive act of seeking divine help when they were at a loss. Later, Davos killed Mitradates first, then Artaozus, gradually earning the soldiers’ recognition of his command ability through his courage and achievements. This time, his moving words and practical actions finally won the hearts of all the soldiers in the camp. They gave him another nickname, “the Merciful One,” and even began affectionately calling the young leader “our Davos.”

This large-scale treatment operation also alerted the other camps. First, individual soldiers came supporting their wounded, asking for help. Davos agreed. But soon the news spread, and more and more wounded arrived. The medical camp was clearly short of manpower, and helping them would consume the resources of Davos’s own camp. Some soldiers in Davos’s camp grew dissatisfied and began quarreling with the outsiders.

Just then, Cleanho and Timasion, having received the news, rushed over. After quickly touring the medical camp, the two leaders (including Timasion, who had always been at odds with Davos) showed more respect on their faces, because they also believed that such a unique and efficient clinic was clearly not something an ordinary person could create. Previously, they had scoffed at the rumor that Davos was the God-Touched One.

Davos agreed without hesitation to treat their wounded soldiers. However, because the number of wounded was too large (as the two rearguard units, they had suffered the heaviest blow, with over five hundred wounded), he needed them to send personnel to assist, and also required more supplies, such as linen, clay pots, timber, tents, and so on. He even allowed them to send doctors to learn and help. Davos was so generous, but of course he had ulterior motives. He confidently believed that the medical knowledge he had learned in his past life would be enough to attract the doctors to stay and expand his own medical camp.

Cleanho and Timasion left full of gratitude. Afterwards, the other leaders also came, and Davos made the same promises and the same demands to them.

On the way back, while Cheirisophus’s adjutant was repeatedly praising Davos’s ability and generosity, Cheirisophus himself was silently contemplating something.

This struck the adjutant as strange. Cheirisophus said frankly, “I admit I was biased against him before. Davos is truly an outstanding talent! Especially the… medical camp he established—it is of great help in battle. Sparta needs this to deal with the coming war.”

“War? What war?!” the adjutant asked in surprise.

“Persia’s war against Sparta,” Cheirisophus said gravely. “Our friend Cyrus the Younger is dead. We have been caught up in a rebellion against the new Persian king. The ruler of Asia Minor has now been replaced by Tissaphernes, who has conflicts with Sparta. You must know that our treaty with Persia has disputes over Asia Minor. The new Persian king is very likely to take issue with this… All signs are unfavorable to us.”

The adjutant listened and fell silent. The war between Sparta and Athens had lasted over twenty years. Sparta had ultimately won, but its losses had been equally enormous. Now they would face Persia, which was even more powerful than Athens. Even though he was a fearless Spartan, he still felt immense pressure.

Cheirisophus glanced at him and changed the subject: “Do you think Davos will join us?”

“Of course! We are Sparta—the hegemon of Greece!” the adjutant said proudly.

“I hope so,” Cheirisophus nodded.